Grave of the Cyberflies
by TyLeeChan
Summary: Oneshot: In the middle of the civil war, Jetstorm thinks that nobot cares about him and his little brother, Jetfire. They are left to fend on their own, with nothing to keep them going but eachother. And the cyberflies. Parody of Grave of the Fireflies


***sniff* This one is sad, so be warned. Its based off of Grave of the Fireflies, or Hotaru no Haka, which is the saddest animated movie I have ever seen. I literally cried twice writing this. Jetfire is probably around 5 here while Jetstorm is around 15 or 16. The other characters presented here, while they are Autobots, will seem rather mean. This is because of the war, as this takes place during WWII. That means the Decepticons are Americans...weird.**

**Please review and try not to cry like me.**

* * *

It was a clear night. Aunt Red Alert had allowed them to take a small trip into the countryside for the evening. It was a nice change of events to be able to see the stars. Living next to an oil refinery came with so much factory smoke that it was a rare sight. And it was peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, that Jetstorm almost expected the Decepticons to come on another raid at that moment. They always chose the quiet times to strike.

Jetfire giggled as he ran ahead of his brother. He was so young. So naïve. Although the `con air raids could be scary, sometimes they were an adventure in his viz scanners. This was most likely because he had never truly witnessed the devastation and carnage of the war. And if Jetstorm had his way, he never would. He wanted to keep Jetfire a child as long as he could.

Jetstorm hated lying to his brother, but it had to be done.

_The Autobots will be vinning the var, Jetfire._

_Daddy will be coming back soon._

_Mommy cannot be seeing us now, but she vill._

_That `bot is just deep in stasis nap._

Jetfire never questioned the truth factor of these statements. He would just nod and accept it. It tore Jetstorm up inside.

In the world he had created for Jetfire, everything was fine. In the real world it could only be described as the exact opposite.

They were losing the war, as if the air dominated by Decepticons wasn't evidence enough. There was no guarantee that their father would return from the battle. And their mother…she had gone offline in the bombing that had destroyed their village. Jetstorm didn't have the spark to tell Jetfire yet.

Jetstorm had to be strong. He had to become a real mech stellar cycles ahead of his time. All for the sake of his brother. He was the only thing in his life worth living for.

Red Alert didn't think the same way. All she was concerned about was that she and her immediate family survived. And everybot had to be doing something to help out during these hard times. Because of his refusal to take part, Red Alert had always looked down on Jetstorm like and annoyance. Or maybe she was just perturbed that their mother had died and left her two children in her care. Either way, Jetstorm sensed that he and his brother would not be welcomed in her house for much longer.

Jetfire shrieked in delight. "Look, brother! Cyberflies!"

Sure enough, little flashing lights began to fly around the two of them. Jetstorm knew that if it was brighter they would be able to see the tiny intricate machines. But since it was dark you could only see what they were best known for; the bright light on their chassis that they used to attract a sparkmate.

Jetfire watched in amazement as they were surrounded by the beautiful spectacle. If only life could always be slow like this. For once, Jetstorm felt like he was in his brother's processor. There was no war. No tension. No troubles. There was just peace, quiet, and cyberflies everywhere.

Jetstorm set his sight on a specific fly that meandered too close. Carefully, he cupped his servos around it too quickly for it to escape. Through the breaks in his interlocked fingers frantic lights could be seen. Good, he didn't squish it. It was hard to catch them without offlining them because of their big servos.

"Here, brother. Be seeing." He leaned over and released his captive in front of Jetfire's faceplate. The light reflected off of his chassis and illuminated his wide smile. Then Jetfire grabbed at the cyberfly too, mimicking his brother's movements. When he opened his servos to see his prize, he frowned.

"I am doing it again, brother…" He lifted them up so he could see. He had captured the cyberfly alright, and hadn't even squished it, but instead it was burnt to a crisp, black and smoking.

Jetstorm knew he and his brothers were different from most `bots. Not only were they the first flying Autobots (which meant they got a lot of slag for being 'Decepticon wannabes') but they also possessed extraordinary powers over forces of nature. Jetstorm could manipulate wind. Jetfire almost had flames living inside of him. Jetstorm had gained control over his abilities, but his brother had yet too. He blamed his age and the wild nature of fire. It would be harder for him, but it was still possible.

"Is okay. You vill soon be getting hang of it." Jetstorm assured. Then he remembered something, "Oh! I almost forgot!"

"Vat? Vat is it being?"

"Close you viz scanners and be saying 'Ahh'!" He instructed.

"Vy?" Jetfire asked.

"It is not mattering. Just say 'Ahh'." Jetfire still seemed confused but obeyed nonetheless.

From the rations he had kept from their old house there had been a tin of energon candy. Red Alert would no doubt have sold them or something because they were not nutritional and simply took up space in 'times like these'. But Jetstorm knew that Jetfire would like them. It had been a long time since he had had any candy.

Jetstorm pulled out the tin from one of his compartments. He carefully procured candy from it, trying his best not to make any noises that would give away the surprise. Jetfire continued to stand with his viz scanners shut tight and his mouth open in expectation. Jetstorm threw the treat into the opening.

Jetfire swished it around and opened his viz scanners.

"Energon drops!" He squealed as he hopped around happily, "Drop! Drop! Drop!"

Jetstorm smiled at his brother's antics. How innocent could one be that they got so excited over a piece of candy? It was so cute and humbling at the same time. It gave Jetstorm hope for the future.

Jetfire suddenly stopped jumping, looking a bit distressed.

"Vat is being vrong?" Jetstorm asked, slightly nervous.

Jetfire looked up at him, his viz scanners wide. "I vas almost swallowing it!"

* * *

Jetstorm rubbed his faceplate. He had only intended to take a short stasis nap, but he ended up out cold for megacycles. He had reasons to be tired.

Feeling they were pushing her hospitality, Jetstorm and Jetfire had left their Aunt's house the orbital cycle before. They had found an abandoned bomb shelter earlier and now used it as their home. It wasn't much, but Jetfire absolutely loved it. He had already gone through and designated all the areas of their home within cycles of their move. The big corned to the right was the kitchen. The smaller cozier corner was the bedroom. The middle was the dining room. The entrance was the door. And outside was the family room. It was where Jetfire spent most of his time.

Their mother had left them a lot of energon in the bank, so they were pretty stable with their food. For now. With the rising costs it seemed their meals would constantly be getting smaller. There was a small oil spring some ten mechanometers away from the shelter, but it was a little crude and Jetstorm had no idea how to turn it into energon cubes where it would be more useful. But they would be fine. They had enough to last the rest of the war. He hoped.

He had written their father constantly since their mother's death. Still there was no response. Jetstorm almost wondered what the use was. Either their father was offline or he didn't care. And neither of those options would help them survive.

It was time to check on Jetfire. Who knew what kind of mischief he would've gotten into? And at the same time he was very responsible; he knew not to stray too far from the bomb shelter. If he was that bold he could get into real trouble.

Jetstorm stood up, stretched, and walked outside. He found Jetfire working fervently with the metallic ground. A flam shot out of his servo, and Jetstorm was instantly at his side. He knew he wasn't supposed to use his powers without supervision.

"Vat are you doing?" Jetstorm asked casually. Jetfire almost jumped up in alarm when he realized he had been caught.

"I vas just making grave." He explained.

Jetstorm saw his work. Jetfire had been using his flames to manipulate the metal. Next to the small holes he had created were the still form of several offline cyberflies, gray and cold. He was burying them.

It suddenly struck Jetstorm how important the little machines had been to his brother. A life to him was valuable, no matter how small. Jetstorm couldn't help swelling up in pride at his brother's maturity.

"That is being very nice, Jetfire. I am sure they are appreciating it." Jetstorm praised. Jetfire didn't respond, but kept on working. He was acting a little funny. Jetstorm didn't like it.

Finally, Jetfire spoke. "Mommy is being in a grave too."

The revelation hit Jetstorm right in the spark. He knew. After all the trouble he had gone through to keep it from him, Jetfire finally knew the truth. But that itself wasn't what saddened Jetstorm. It was the fact that his brother didn't seem bothered by it. Like he was desensitized along with all the other `bots on Cybertron.

Oil began to leak down his faceplate but he quickly wiped it off, not wanting Jetfire to see.

"How did you find out?" He asked softly.

"Auntie Red Alert told me." Jetfire answered as he began to put the cyberflies in their final resting places.

Jetstorm should've known she was going to go against his wishes like that. She was never concerned about other's feelings. Guilt crept up inside of him again. He should've told his brother the news, not his Aunt. Maybe then Jetfire would've understood it better. Maybe he would have reacted normally.

"I am sorry I vas not telling you earlier…" Jetstorm apologize. "Maybe ve can go see her some orbital cycle."

Jetfire nodded. He shot out small, concentrated blasts of fire, melting the metal to cover the graves. Jetstorm was impressed. His control of his powers had strengthened so much. This sudden control also showed how little the death of his mother had affected him, however. Their abilities were subject to their emotions.

Jetfire sighed. "Why do cyberflies have to be going offline so quickly?"

* * *

"Jetstorm!" Jetfire cried out in fear.

Jetstorm turned around at the sound of the warning. Too late. Something big and heavy rammed into his chestplate. He felt something inside of him crunch as he dropped the energon cubes to the ground. Ouch. Jetfire tried to run over to help, but Jetstorm gave him a look that told him to stay put. He didn't want to get his brother involved.

"Whaddya think you're doin', you glitchhead?" His assailant asked angrily, "Stealing from an energon farm during wartime is a serious crime."

He was a very large green `bot that was obviously built for strength. And one of his servos was a wrecking ball. Not something you would expect from the average energon farmer. Jetstorm regretted bringing Jetfire along. It didn't look like this was going to end well. But he couldn't leave him at the bomb shelter by himself. In fact, now Jetstorm regretted even considering stealing at all. But they needed this food.

"Please sir, be forgiving me! My brother is sick! I vill not be doing it again…" He tried to explain.

"You must be the one stealing from all the energon farms around here." He frowned, "D'ya think just because we have a farm it means we're better off than you?"

"But, sir, my brother…"

"Like I give a slag about your brother!" He retrieved his wrecking ball and swung it around preparing to strike again. Jetstorm closed his viz scanners and winced, awaiting the inevitable. He deserved it, anyways. The farmer was right; stealing during war wasn't something to be taken lightly. And he had still tried to.

"Jetstorm!" Jetfire screamed. He could hear his brother sobbing in terror. Jetstorm wanted to calm him, to tell him he could endure the pain.

Something hit the ground in front of him, and he opened his viz scanners. The wrecking ball lay less than a mechanometers before him, a crater created below it. He blinked, unsure of what was happening.

"Leave now." The green bulbous `bot muttered, "Before I change my mind and call the police."

Jetstorm stared for a nanoclick, then nodded in understanding. He stood up and walked over to Jetfire, who was still crying.

"Let us go, brother." Jetstorm prompted. Jetfire grabbed a hold of his servo and squeezed it. Slowly, the two of them left the farm, both a bit shaken by the events.

Jetstorm promised himself never to steal again. For Jetfire's sake.

* * *

He had been living in denial for deca-cycles. Jetfire wasn't seriously ill. He couldn't be. He just had a small cold, that was all. But now that 'cold' was much more serious. The backfirings had gotten worse. His chassis's color was fading. He looked considerably smaller. Sometimes he was too weak to move.

Jetstorm had lied to himself about his brother's health. And now it was coming back to bite him in the gearshaft.

Jetfire squirmed anxiously as the medibot continued to scan his chassis. Jetfire had never liked medibots. He was always afraid that he would have to get a vaccine during check-ups. Jetstorm didn't blame him. He didn't like shots either.

"Breathe in…breathe out." Ratchet, the medibot, instructed."Now open yer mouth, kid. Lemme get a good look in there."

Jetfire opened it as wide as possible and Ratchet peered in. He nodded and mumbled something to himself as he diagnosed. Jetstorm couldn't stand being left in the dark. His brother could be in serious trouble. He had to know what was the matter!

"Are you knowing vat problem is now?" Jetstorm asked nervously. Ratched looked up from Jetfire and scowled.

"Look, kid, I wouldn't usually put up with you, but 'cause of the war 'n all there aren't many spare medibots on servo. Now, would you kindly shut yer trap so I can do my job?" The way he asked the question told Jetstorm that he didn't mean it to be 'kindly' at all.

"Yes sir." He replied.

Jetstorm knew he shouldn't have interrupted anyways. It was rude. And Ratchet was nice enough to see his patients for free. Though… 'nice' wasn't exactly the right word choice. Jetstorm was sure that under his crust attitude Ratchet had a good spark though. Why else would he be so generous?

Ratchet stepped back and brushed off his servos.

"Malnutrition." He announced.

"Vat?" Jetstorm asked stupidly, not expecting him to be done so soon.

"He's malnourished." When Ratchet saw Jetstorm still didn't understand, he sighed, "It means he isn't getting enough good stuff to eat. Whaddya feedin' him? Scrap metal? A young `bot like him needs some high-grade energon."

"Is there being some medication or a shot to help?" Jetstorm asked.

Jetfire scrunched up his faceplate. "I am not liking shots."

Jetstorm didn't want to have his brother get a vaccine, but if it would help him he wouldn't hesitate. He didn't know much about this 'malnutrition' or how it was treated. He wasn't sure he had ever heard of it before, actually. But the way the medibot talked about it, it wasn't serious. Unless nothing was serious anymore; `bots died from every kind of ailment nowadays.

"Nah. All ya can do fer him is give him some nourishment. A few energon cubes a day instead of pure slag should do." He leaned over to the door, "Next!"

Wait…they were just being dismissed? But he had no way to provide for Jetfire the way Ratchet prescribed. Didn't they know that he was sick? Ratchet didn't seem too concerned.

"But, sir…" Jetstorm began.

"No 'buts', kid. I gotta lot more patients to see today, so out ya go." He motioned toward the exit.

Jetstorm felt the anger boil inside of him. Ratchet didn't care about him or Jetfire. Didn't care that they were barely making it very orbital cycle. Didn't care that they were all alone. They were just another name on a list to him. They could go offline and he wouldn't lose a megacycle of rest.

He let it all out. "Where can you possibly be finding nourishment!?"

* * *

Jetstorm ran back toward the bomb shelter, boxes in his servos. He had gone out and taken all of the energon they had left from the bank. They needed the food now more than ever. He had bought a whole supply of energon cubes with it. He was so excited. What would Jetfire say when he saw this? When was the last time they had had a real meal?

He had told himself he wouldn't leave Jetfire at the shelter alone again, but this was an exception. The last time he had, he had returned home to find Jetfire lying still outside. He had been so cold, extremely abnormal for a `bot with internal flames. Jetstorm had though he was offline until he realized his chassis was still a faint hue of orange. Jetstorm didn't want to be scared like that again. This was the final time he would go without him.

He reached home, almost jumping through the entry.

"Jetfire! I am being back!" He called. There was an excited yelp in reply. Jetstorm smiled and set down the boxes in the 'kitchen'.

Jetfire was in the 'bedroom', lying down contently. His faceplate brightened as Jetstorm walked over. He was holding tight to the long-empty tin of energon drops. He had taken to carrying it around everywhere lately.

"Bwotha!" He exclaimed. Though it sounded oddly muffled, like something was in his cheek. Jetstorm became worried.

"What are you eating, Jetfire?" He asked warily. Jetfire smiled and shook the can, which no longer sounded empty.

"Dwops!"

Jetstorm quickly grabbed the tin from his brother and emptied it's contents into his servo, much to Jetfire's dismay. It was a Jetstorm had feared. Jetfire had replaced his favorite treats with something similar in shape and size; in this case, oil can tabs. That definitely wouldn't help him recover.

"Be spitting it out, Jetfire." He ordered. It took much coaxing, but Jetstorm finally removed the garbage from his mouth. Jetfire pouted for a nanoclick, then reached for something next to him that Jetstorm couldn't see.

"Here, brother, be made `specially for you!"He said cheerily, displaying his prize, "Energon cubes!"

But it wasn't an energon cube. It was a compacted piece of metal, scorch marks around its edges. Jetstorm stared. Normally, he would be disappointed in his brother for using his powers without his supervision, no matter how good he had gotten in controlling it. But something else more important bothered him. His brother didn't mistake energon for metal. Something was terribly wrong. Jetfire was having delusions.

That had only one conclusion: His condition was getting worse.

Jetstorm tried to hold back the leaks but found it impossible. The oil streamed down his faceplate.

"Jetfire…!" He whimpered. He had failed him. He had promised to take care of him and he had let him get this sick.

Jetfire looked hurt. "You are no liking it…" He withdrew his 'energon cube' solemnly.

Jetstorm regained his composure while Jetfire frowned in disappointment.

"I am having real, good energon cubes for you, brother!" He informed. He quickly ran over to one of the several boxes and opened it. Inside were layers on layers of the beautiful pink fuel. Why couldn't they have gotten these earlier? He grabbed one and returned to his brother's side.

He placed the cube in Jetfire's servos, which felt cold. He stared at the food for a nanoclick, and then slowly bit off a corner of it. Good. Good. He could eat.

Jetstorm walked back over to get himself an energon cube as well. The whole time he had been ignoring his own almost unbearable hunger pangs. He had to serve his brother first. He swiped one of them from the box and began to ravenously devour it. The tast was heavenly.

He redirected his attention back to his brother. He hadn't eaten anymore of his food. He was just looking at it, as if it provoked some great thoughts. Then he sighed.

"Thank you…Jetstorm…" He said softly. Then he close his viz scanners, seemingly falling into a stasis nap.

He never woke up.

* * *

**I know it ends upruptly, but the next parts seem to be unnessacry for me. And I would have cried more...well I wish this a/n could be longer, but I'm crying too hard...**


End file.
